The Tower of Nero (The Trials of Apollo #5) - Rick Riordan Page 0,84

was drawn to a flash of movement in the hallway. Screech-Bling, CEO of the troglodytes, materialized in Meg’s bedroom doorway, grinning with delight, his colonial outfit covered with monster dust and tufts of red bull fur, his tricorn hat topped with several new headwear acquisitions.

Before Screech-Bling could say anything that would announce his presence, I gave him a subtle shake of the head, warning him to stay put, out of range of the laptop camera. I didn’t want to give Nero any more information about our allies than necessary.

It was impossible to read Screech-Bling’s eyes behind his dark goggles, but being a smart trog, he seemed to understand.

Nero was saying “—quite a different situation. Have you heard of Sassanid gas, Apollo?”

I had no idea what that was, but Screech-Bling almost leaped out of his buckle shoes. His lips curled in a distasteful sneer.

“Ingenious, really,” Nero continued. “The Persians used it against our troops in Syria. Sulfur, bitumen, a few other secret ingredients. Horribly poisonous, causes excruciating death, especially effective in enclosed spaces like tunnels…or buildings.”

My neck hairs stood on end. “Nero. No.”

“Oh, I think yes,” he countered, his voice still pleasant. “You’ve robbed me of my chance to burn down the city, but surely you didn’t think that was my only plan. The backup system is quite intact. You’ve done me the favor of gathering the entire Greek camp in one place! Now, with just a push of a button, everything below the throne room level—”

“Your own people are down here!” I yelled, shaking with fury.

Nero’s distorted face looked pained. “It’s unfortunate, yes. But you’ve forced my hand. At least my darling Meg is here, and some of my other favorites. We will survive. What you don’t seem to realize, Apollo, is that you can’t destroy bank accounts with a bow and arrows. All my assets, all the power I’ve built up for centuries—it’s all safe. And Python is still waiting for your corpse to be delivered to him. So let’s make a deal. I will delay releasing my Sassanid surprise for…say, fifteen minutes. That should be enough time for you to reach the throne room. I’ll let in you, and only you.”

“And Meg?”

Nero looked baffled. “As I said, Meg is fine. I would never hurt her.”

“You—” I choked on my rage. “You do nothing but hurt her.”

He rolled his eyes. “Come on up and we’ll have a chat. I’ll even…” He paused, then laughed as if he’d had a sudden inspiration. “I’ll even let Meg decide what to do with you! Surely that’s more than fair. Your other option is that I release the gas now, then come down and collect your corpse at my leisure, along with those of your friends—”

“No!” I tried to curb the desperation in my voice. “No, I’m coming up.”

“Excellent.” Nero gave me a smug smile. “Ta-ta.”

The screen went dark.

I faced Screech-Bling. He stared back, his expression grim.

“Sassanid gas is very—GRR—bad,” he said. “I see why Red Priestess sent me here.”

“Red—you mean Rachel? She told you to find me?”

Screech-Bling nodded. “She sees things, as you said. The future. The worst enemies. The best hats. She told me to come to this place.”

His voice conveyed a level of reverence that suggested Rachel Elizabeth Dare would be getting free skink soup for the rest of her life. I missed my Pythia. I wished she had sought me out herself, rather than sending Screech-Bling, but since the trog could run at supersonic speed and tear through solid rock, I guessed it made sense.

The CEO scowled at the laptop’s dark cracked monitor. “Is it possible Ne-ACK-ro is bluffing about the gas?”

“No,” I said bitterly. “Nero doesn’t bluff. He likes to boast, then follow through. He’ll release that gas as soon as he has me in the throne room.”

“Fifteen minutes,” Screech-Bling mused. “Not much time. Try to stall him. I will gather the trogs. We will disable this gas, or I will see you in Underheaven!”

“But—”

Screech-Bling vanished in a cloud of dust and bull hair.

I tried to steady my breathing. The troglodytes had come through for us once before when I didn’t believe they would. Still, we weren’t underground now. Nero would not have told me about his poison-gas delivery system if it was easy to find or disarm. If he could fumigate an entire skyscraper at the touch of a button, I didn’t see how the trogs would have time to stop him, or even get our forces safely out of the building. And when I faced the